Chapter 43
Lara was glad that Christmas was her busiest time of the year. From dawn until well into the evening she and Becky did not stop. Once back in her cottage Lara buried herself in ordering, invoicing and emailing customers.
Every few days, Lara visited Lady Porter’s grave with fresh flowers and talked quietly to the cold winter air about what had happened. Lara never saw Mrs M again. She heard that her cottage had been sold to a couple from London, and that was that.
For Lara there was a deep sense of loss, which had very little to do with Mrs M’s departure.
Some evenings, Lara sat and read random pages from her book-papered wall and she still slept with her bedroom door slightly ajar.
She knew that one night soon she would go back to her previous habit of closing it. But not just yet.
When Lara felt the sense of loss might overwhelm her, she called either Kate or Sarah, and it became a habit that the three of them would spend their spare evenings together (when Kate wasn’t seeing Rod).
During these hours, Lara felt lifted into a different place, filled with warmth, laughter and usually copious quantities of wine or coffee.
She was introduced to Rory and she found his constant interrogation and innocent, quirky view of the world a complete tonic.
They were making plans to visit the Natural History Museum together in January.
Lara’s mum also became a frequent visitor and Lara learnt to enjoy bopping along in her flow of conversation rather than swimming furiously against it.
There was no getting away from it, her mother was a real asset in the shop.
Takings were definitely up on the days that she worked and she and Becky got on like a house on fire.
Lara really looked forward to the days she helped out and she was teaching her mum how to make up bouquets and buttonholes.
It was the week before Christmas that Joe came into the shop and asked to have a word with her.
He very simply asked her out to dinner. She said no, and that was that.
He did not seem embarrassed or, she hoped, particularly upset.
He asked her why and as she could not explain the reason without sounding foolish or offensive, she hid in the cliché of ‘not being ready.’ She could not tell him there had been days when she really thought he might have murdered Lady Porter, and she felt this was not a good basis for a relationship.
Kate and Sarah continued to tease Lara about Joe, but gently.
She noticed they never mentioned Julian.
When she bumped into Joe one evening with an attractive brunette, she found she did not mind too much.
Of Julian she saw very little, and when she did come across him, she genuinely wondered what she had ever seen in him.
She wondered if Pinky thought that now too.
She would never forget his expression of shocked revulsion as he backed away from Pinky Porter.
Without his greed and lust-fuelled overtures, she didn’t think Pinky would ever have thought of killing her mother-in-law.
Even in her infatuation, she knew she only would have had a chance with Julian had she been a seriously wealthy woman.
Before she knew it, it was Christmas week and the work in the shop reached fever pitch.
Her mum had moved in for a few days and when she wasn’t doing hair, Kate came in and helped with some of the deliveries.
When Lara wasn’t literally spinning on the spot, she realised she was loving it.
The shop smelled of pine, oranges, cinnamon and lilies.
There were piles of chocolates by the till from grateful customers, as well as an array of bottles that they occasionally dipped into when working late.
Lara’s back ached from the incessant unpacking and lifting, and her hands were black from the sap of the flowers and pine, but she did not mind.
Each morning she made an effort with what she wore and some days she even found herself choosing colours that would go with the flowers she was working with that day.
She laughed to herself at the madness of this, but she also held the thought of it close to her as she believed Abby would have approved.
As well as the gifts of food and drink there was a stream of Christmas cards from past brides and people they had helped with parties and even funerals.
Becky liked to open these and hang them up by the till, but one morning Lara found Becky had left two cards on the workbench for her.
One was a postcard with a brief Christmas message from Margaret Abbott wishing her all the blessings of the season.
Nothing more. The photo on the front was of a pink painted palace at sunset.
It was the City Palace at Jaipur. The second card enclosed a letter from her friend Fiona. She wrote:
I had to write as I am sure you had a big part to play in this.
I cannot thank you enough. The museum is overwhelmed and I have come out of this smelling of roses!
Thanks to you! Richard Porter has donated the whole of the Meissen tea service to the V&A.
All he has asked is we make a donation of ￡87,800 to your church restoration fund (an odd amount I know, but I understand this will finish off the repairs to the roof). Can you believe it?!
Lara could well believe it if Richard Porter had received a Christmas message from Mrs M.
The woman who knew he had forged a power of attorney.
She sometimes spotted Richard walking across the square to Gillmore House.
A forlorn figure accompanied by his labradors.
There were rumours abounding that the house was going on the market in the new year, but that Richard Porter would not be using Julian Armstrong’s estate agency.
On Christmas Eve, Lara was in the shop before dawn wearing every jumper she possessed.
The weather had turned particularly cold and the shop was freezing.
They only stayed open until lunchtime on Christmas Eve and she needed to have all the orders that people would be collecting lined up and waiting.
She would also want to clear the shop of every single flower as she would not be open until the new year.
She figured the town could manage without flowers for a week and she needed a rest. On Christmas Day she was driving over to her parents’ and staying with them for a few days.
Her brother and family were coming for part of the holiday and Lara was really looking forward to it.
Her mum would fuss and spoil her and her dad would pour her good wine he wanted her to try.
She had made a special effort with presents this year and hoped she had done the right thing.
Becky arrived early and turned up the Christmas songs for one last blast as she joined in sorting and wrapping the flowers.
By midday the shop was almost empty. Becky then spent a happy half hour handing out posies made from the last remaining flowers to people passing in the square.
They had already delivered two big bunches to Kate and Sarah.
Lara was meeting them later that evening at the Wentworth Arms where an Irish band was playing.
It seemed Kate was related in some way to the drummer.
Rod had the evening off and was joining them too.
Finally, Becky and Lara scrubbed the last of the buckets and swept the floor.
Lara then gave Becky the parcels she had prepared for her Christmas gifts, and Becky handed her a gift-wrapped parcel that Lara suspected was a lipstick. She hoped that it was scarlet.
Becky had never mentioned Lara’s strange behaviour earlier that winter, but Lara secretly thought she had noticed more and knew more than she ever let on.
Becky hugged her and gathering up her parcels and flowers made her way across the square to the coffee shop where she was meeting friends.
Lara stood in the doorway and watched her leave.
The square was still busy with last minute shoppers.
Lara noticed the wine shop in particular seemed to be doing a roaring trade and she spotted quite a number of people carrying paper bags from Sarah’s deli.
Beside the wine shop the antique shop stood dark and empty.
A ‘For Sale’ sign from Julian’s estate agency was displayed in the window.
There had been no more news of Jason Honeybourne and no one seemed to know where he was, except that Rod had mentioned he was due in court in the new year.
He was not sure when Pinky Porter’s trial would be.
Or exactly what charges Richard Porter would be facing.
It was cold and grey, but the square was made colourful by the Christmas lights and the various coats and scarves people were wearing.
Some had also added a touch of tinsel to their outfits.
Around the large Christmas tree in the centre of the square a crowd had gathered and the Salvation Army in their unmistakable red and black uniforms were playing carols for onlookers.
Lara walked over to listen and felt an overwhelming sense of happiness and gratitude that she was part of all this.
Despite the biting cold, Lara took off her fingerless mittens and held her wrists to her face.
Every day she put on the new gardenia perfume she had bought herself the week after Abby had left.
Lara took in a deep breath. As she exhaled, she looked up at the slate grey sky.
She was forced to blink rapidly to clear the moisture on her lashes.
But Lara knew she was not crying, she was blinking away the first flutters of snow that were now drifting down from the leaden sky and landing on her upturned face.
As she watched the disorientating swirling snowflakes descend, Miss McGregor smiled.
Her attention was drawn back to earth by the sound of people around her in the square.
Those nearest to the Christmas tree had joined in singing carols and most of the children were now squealing and swooping around the square, hands and tongues stuck out to catch the snow.
A rough-haired terrier raced after them, barking and shaking his head at the snow landing on his nose.
A solitary labrador sat at the far side of the Christmas tree, ignoring these antics as if the terrier was beneath his notice.
The labrador then stood up and walked briskly away in the direction of Gillmore House.
The picture of a perfect gundog walking to heel.
Lara decided to wear scarlet. And, despite her aching legs, she put on a pair of heels.
She had decided against the antlers, unlike some of the other customers.
The pub was already heaving when she arrived.
Ron caught her eye and passed over a glass of wine ‘for his favourite florist’.
Kate and Rod joined her by the bar and they clinked glasses with wishes for a Happy Christmas.
Sarah was joining them for a couple of hours once Rory was settled.
Her mum and aunt who were staying with her for Christmas, had insisted she come and celebrate with her friends.
Lara sipped her drink. She loved the thought that she did not have to go to work for another week and she knew Kate would be feeling the same.
She thought a week off might even give her hands a chance to recover.
It had taken quite a lot of scrubbing and nail varnish to make them look even half decent.
There were lots of familiar faces in the pub and a few new ones.
She chatted and shouted across the sound of the band and moved from one group to the other.
The music was really good and she gave Kate a thumbs up sign when she saw her pointing with pride at the drummer.
Sarah had arrived and was now on the dance floor with an attractive man with reddish hair.
He seemed to be with a crowd of friends and when the music stopped for a second, Sarah drew Lara towards them.
One of the men in particular she could not help looking at.
He was tall with mid-brown hair and was good looking in a quirky kind of way.
He had the most fantastic brown eyes. Lara tried to stop herself glancing at him, but each time she did sneak a look she found he was staring straight back at her.
For the next two songs, Lara joined in with the dancing alongside Sarah and this new group of people.
Over the band, Sarah tried to make some introductions – it seemed she had known one of the women from college and this was a group of her friends gathered together for Christmas Eve.
After the next song, Lara stepped aside so she was out of the bouncing, happy mob and had a tall table between herself and the dance floor.
The interesting visitor, who she had worked out was called Phil, came over to her and asked if she would like a drink.
‘Red wine, please,’ she mouthed over the noise of conversation and music.
Her eyes followed him as he made his way to the bar.
He really was very nice she thought, watching his back and shoulders as he stood shouting his order across the heads of some drinkers.
Before long, he was back by her side with a bottle of wine and two glasses.
Lara guessed she would be walking home tonight.
The snow was only settling lightly – but she was glad she had remembered to put some boots in the back of the van.
Phil asked her about herself and told her he lived about ten miles away, but had only moved there recently.
Then he made her laugh, describing what Christmas was going to entail with his family.
The band started up again and Lara had to shout so she could be heard.
Phil moved closer so his arm was touching hers and he bent his head towards her to catch what she was saying.
Lara could actually feel her heart racing.
They had been standing like this talking for some minutes, when Phil looked down at her, and laughing, asked, ‘Why do you keep calling me Phil?’
Lara looked up in surprise. ‘You’re not…?’
He shook his head and pointed into the crowd towards the red-headed guy who was dancing with Sarah. ‘That’s Phil.’
‘So who are you?’ Lara asked.
‘Gabriel,’ he replied.
Lara Petunia McGregor put back her head and laughed out loud.
Gabriel did not seem to be offended by this in the least. He had had far worse reactions to his name.
‘I don’t suppose you’re a farmer by any chance?’ she said, smiling up at him.
‘No, sorry about that,’ Gabriel said, grinning, ‘I’m a doctor.’
*